Frederic Franklin (1914-2013)

Frederic Franklin
has been my idol since the first time I saw him
dance in 1940. To write about him is almost impossible for me,
because this man can do no wrong in my eyes. But I will try to
be objective about him. At the age of 90, he was named Commander
of the Order of the British Empire. He is sharp as a tack and
has total recall. We are lucky that he is still re-setting ballets
he danced 60 years ago.

Frederic Franklin
was born in Liverpool, England, in 1914, and his interest in
the theater started when his family took him to see Peter Pan.
When he got home he jumped on his bed trying to fly. To get him
out of the way his mother took him to Mrs. Kelly's dancing school.
Mrs. Kelly told Frederic's mother that he was gifted and gave
him a scholarship. Later he went to another teacher that would
whack students with a cane. At the age of ten he took two years
off to do what other boys that age were doing. In 1929 Diaghilev's
Ballets Russes came to Liverpool. He was impressed with Alexandra
Danilova, Serge Lifar
and Leon Woizikovsky. Franklin fell in love with Danilova and
hung her picture over his bed. When he went to London he continued
to study with Lydia Kyasht, a former dancer from the Maryinsky.
She had toured with Diaghilev's Ballets Russes in the United
States. Franklin also studied with Nicolai
Legat, and in Paris he had classes with Lubov
Egorova, and his hero, Anton
Dolin.

Franklin made his debut at Casino de Paris, in a show starring
Josephine Baker, in 1931. Back in London he danced in music halls,
cabarets and any place he could make some money. In 1935 his
big break came when he joined the Markova-Dolin Ballet Company.
Literally, he has never been out of the dance world since then.

Franklin joined the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo as premier
danseur at the request of Leonide
Massine in 1938, becoming ballet master in 1944. He has partnered
every great ballerina: Danilova, Alicia
Markova, Mia Slavenska,
Tamara Toumanova, Irina Baronova, Moira Shearer,
Yvette Chauviré, Rosella Hightower, Maria
Tallchief, Alicia Alonzo and many more. While with the Ballet
Russe de Monte Carlo, Franklin danced 45 principal roles -- from
pure classical to many character roles, such as the champion
roper in Agnes de Mille's Rodeo.

Freddie continued his classes with such teachers as Alexandra
Fedorova, Felia Doubrovska
and as he has said, "that terrible stern taskmaster, Anatole
Oboukhoff; they all were killers."

As a teacher he tells his students, "It's wonderful.
You come to class, you get dressed and go home. Stay behind and
work. It's what you do for yourself after the teacher has taught
you."

It was like a dream come true when he first partnered Danilova,
the ballerina he had seen dance with the Ballets Russes and had
fallen in love with. Every night before falling asleep he saw
her picture over his bed. Danilova said to him, "Young man,
if you are going to dance with me, you must know where my curves
are." During the rehearsal she said, "Young man, I'll
hook on to you." Franklin told me, "No matter what
we were doing Danilova would drape herself around me and hook.
And we were fine."

In 1952 Franklin and ballerina Mia
Slavenska formed the Slavenska-Franklin Ballet Company. They
invited Valerie Bettis to choreograph a ballet based on the successful
Broadway Show A Streetcar Named Desire. This ballet became one
of the most important works to come out of this union.

Working with George
Balanchine, Franklin says, " In those days, Balanchine
was more concerned with the acting. When I danced his ballets
like Baiser de la Fille, it required a lot of acting. Later in
his career Mr. 'B' would say, 'Don't bother about the acting.
Just listen to the music and dance.' All his steps came out of
him through the music. The music was terribly important to him.
He didn't want any expression. The dancing was enough. That was
Balanchine."

In talking about other choreographers Freddie quotes Bronislava
Nijinska as saying, "Good dancer, I make Russian dancer
out of Franklin -- he good boy."

Frederick Ashton told him, "Freddie, now listen, stop
the mannerisms. Don't dance like Anton
Dolin. Be yourself. Don't dance like this one -- don't dance
like that one. Just dance like yourself." When I saw Frederic Franklin dance
he was dancing like himself.

Mr. Franklin's feelings on the current state of dance is one
I share. He said, "The Ballet needs choreographers. Can
you name a major American choreographer? I can't. I believe the
future of companies and dancers depends on new works and first-rate
choreographers. The Royal Ballet just did a new production of
Sleeping Beauty. How many times can you see La Bayadere or Swan
Lake. That's all they do. They're in a mess, too."

"In the past, Massine would do four ballets a year. Nijinska
would do two or three. Look at Mr. 'B.' Ballets came out of him
like sausages. It's regrettable because there are wonderful dancers
capable of doing all kinds of things. They're crying out for
roles."

When Franklin is asked why he doesn't retire -- his answer
is, "On what?" He said, "As long as people want
me to stage works and teach classes, I'll do it. I don't think
I'll ever really stop."

Franklin
passed away in Manhattan on May 4, 2013 at the age of 98.
He was survived by his partner of 48 years, William Haywood Ausman;
a brother, John; a niece, Pamela Hayes Brookfield; and his nephews,
John, Tim and Peter Franklin and Neil Hayes.

Editor's note: Much of the above information came from an
interview by Larry Stevens for Dance and The Arts.

A Meeting With Frederic Franklin

I had a chance meeting with Freceric Franklin on the 86th
street cross-town bus. I enjoyed hearing him tell stories of
his early days as a dancer with The Markova-Dolin Company and
as the premiere danseur of the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. It
was with the Ballet Russe that I first saw him dance. I was just
15 years old, in need of a hero, and Mr. Franklin became it.

How did a boy living in Oklahoma City get to see the Ballet
Russe? None of my friends had ever been to the ballet, but I
had the good fortune to have a divorced aunt, who needed an escort
to the cultural events that infrequently played our city. My
aunt made sure I was a good ballroom dancer so I could be her
dance partner when the Big Name Bands played our area. She was
responsible for my brother and I studying ballroom dance at a
very early age. I was delighted and proud to be with her because
she was interested in me as a person and she backed every project
I undertook. Trying to bring culture to my family was a full-time
job, and while she was very successful with her nieces, I think
I was her only success among her nephews.

In 1940 the war in Europe was beginning to threaten America
and many of the older boys began to enlist. Because of the war
there were fewer and fewer cultural events for us to enjoy, so
when the Ballet Russe first came to Oklahoma, I was sitting in
the audience spellbound by what I saw on stage. I loved the music,
the movement, the pattern, and costumes. As I watched Mr. Franklin
with his princely demeanor dance with Alexandra
Danilova, I knew dance was what I wanted to do. Frederic
Franklin was the first male ballet dancer whom I had ever
seen, of course, I had been to Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly movies,
and I enjoyed them, but the Hollywood musicals did not inspire
me to become a dancer.

The very next day I called the local teacher to take lessons,
but because there were no other boys in her school she would
not take me. Years later when I was dancing with the San Francisco
Ballet, she came to take a summer course and I told her that
she had refused me as a student; she replied that she didn't
know how to teach boys. I didn't tell her how disappointed I
was, and I thought I had no choice but to give up the idea of
ever dancing. After my dream of becoming a ballet dancer was
shattered, I turned my interest to art and theater. I also worked
hard to be the best ballroom dancer in high school.

Many years later when I was a soldier working for Special
Service in Japan, I had the chance to befriend many USO performers.
I was the director of Club Ichiban, the largest enlisted men's
club in the Pacific theater, Barbara, one of the USO performers,
wanted to use the ballroom at the club to give herself class.
I told her she could if she let me try it with her. She taught
me some positions and steps. When she asked me to point and my
foot stretched to a better point than many professional dancers
and when she told me to turn and I did on the correct foot and
in the proper direction--she was flabbergasted by how quickly
I could pick up movement. She was so impressed that she taught
me some routines which we performed at the club. I had studied
theater in Oklahoma and had done some plays--in fact in the State
of Oklahoma I had won first place in a competition for humorist
reading--so I was not new to an audience. One might think that
the men I served with would not appreciate my dancing, but they
cheered me on and made sure to know when I would performed again
so they could be there. Many of the servicemen were starved for
entertainment. They were curious enough to asked if I had been
a professional before my induction.

Barbara was as supportive as my aunt and encouraged me to
give dancing a try when I got my discharge. She even wrote her
dance friends in San Francisco and told them to expect me. After
three lessons with Barbara's teacher, I was asked to dance with
her group. It was with this group that I danced on the same program
as Ruth St. Denis. I soon started my studies at the San Francisco
Ballet School. I picked up so quickly and had such a flexible
body, that within six months I was invited into the company.
At last my dreams were coming true and Mr. Franklin was responsible
for starting them.

When Ballet Russe was performing at the San Francisco Opera
House, starring Mr. Franklin and Alexandra
Danilova, I never missed a performance. I knew more about
ballet by then and I still thought they were the definitive dancers
of that time. Their Giselle was one of technique and drama. It
took many years before I saw another production of that ballet
that could compare.

One day when I was on my way to class, I saw Mr. Franklin
window shopping, and like a small puppy I followed him for blocks.
After this incident in San Francisco, it was Mr. Franklin on
stage and me in the audience. Decades have past, and after performing
in a ballet company, stock, night clubs, TV, operating a successful
school in Brooklyn, being assistant director of the Bat Dor Company
in Israel, and teaching at the High School of the Performing
Arts, Harkness Dance Center and the New York School of Ballet,
I finally had a chance to meet Mr. Franklin. And today on the
cross-town bus, 45 years later, I finally told him of his influence
on my life. He looked at me and was pleased by what he heard,
but I knew many other dancers had told him the same thing. Sitting
here at 67 and feeling like I was 15--WOW!

One day when Christine Sarry was taking my class, I looked
up to see Mr. Franklin standing at the door. My voice just ceased
to work. I tried to get my mind back on the class, but my eyes
kept going back to the doorway. After class Christine Sarry introduced
me to Mr. Franklin, who was there to coach her in a role. He
told me that he enjoyed watching me teach. I thanked him, hoping
that he didn't hear my heart beat. I wondered, if Mr. Franklin
was aware that he was responsible for my being a ballet teacher.

"Here we are at Broadway, the last stop." Mr. Franklin's
voice brought me out of my daydream. "Good-bye, Dick. I
hope to see you again soon." He is calling me by my first
name, I thought. "Good-bye, Mr. Franklin!"